Immunity (Book 3 of the Dana Halliday series)

GYM CLASS. SHUTTLE LAG. COMPLETE NON SEQUITUR.

The path widened, becoming nearly a road. We were headed into a cleft between the hills, maybe a small box canyon or an extra wide ravine. I heard water trickling from up ahead, and a stream appeared alongside us. The water steamed in the cool air, running over a bed of rocks. Even in the softened light, the stream was so clear I could see the varying gray striations in the smooth stones. 

    Jori hopped off the Levisled, waving at the other Fenn. "With me. We'll run ahead and make sure it's safe. Just in case." He set off at a rapid lope, followed by Flynt and Tillen.

    Yuri glanced back at me. "Feeling better?"

    "Yeah. I'm a little overwhelmed at where to start, though."

    We'd discussed a general plan for days. My heart wanted to rush to the halls of the Vathparliad and demand to see my friend. My head told me to start investigating here. At least one infected person had died near the cilmon.

* * *

    The stream emerged from the canyon, pouring from the mouth of a paved chute from under a wall. The cliffs to either side rose high above and angled back, implying a funnel shape. The wall itself, about twenty feet in height and of expertly crafted stone, protected the entrance to the canyon. A small, round door, closed, was just visible in the rocks to the left. Ropes, thick and sturdy, hung at intervals down to about ten feet.

    "Great," I said. "I flunked this part of gym class."

    Yuri grinned. "Don't worry. Hang on."

    I did, and the Levisled picked up a little speed before rising smoothly as a zeppelin and floating over the wall.

    Yuri let the Levisled and trailer drift onto the ground, a giant pack animal settling down for a rest, and powered it down. The seats and handles retracted, making them look even more like a couple of giant pills. The ones that made you small, presumably.

    I looked up at the wall and then forward into the cilmon, pausing a moment to take it in. Flynt implied that the Fenn were at a Stone Age level, civilization-wise, but this made me think more of a quaint village in some mountainous European country. The floor of the canyon was paved with the gray stone, and round wooden doors were set Hobbit-style into the walls and cliffs above.

    A network of branches or vines provided a roof over the narrow canyon, sheltering what I guessed was a central gathering area. This foliage sprouted from smooth black trunks, originating somewhere on top of the natural cliff walls, and extending to meet each other across the canyon. This organic roof was woven tightly together, in too organized a pattern to happen naturally. Streaks of deep green alternated with the black bark.

    In the center of the gathering area was a fire pit, its stones blackened from use. A mishmash of seating surrounded the pit, from carved stone platforms, to swing-like chairs woven from smaller strands of the roof-vines, to bowl-shaped depressions in the bricks underfoot.

    "Everything okay?" I called up to Jori, the only one of the three in view.

    Flynt's dad strolled along a walkway to my left, past the closed doors of several dwellings. Below him was the ground level; above him one more row of the round black doors.

    "Yes," he confirmed.

    "Except they're all gone," came Tillen's voice from my right.

    She emerged from a door at ground level and walked toward the fire pit. "It's morning," she continued, as Yuri and I approached. "It should be busy now, loud."

    Flynt appeared from the narrow end of the canyon, descending a flight of stone steps alongside the stream. Both he and Tillen had similar appalled expressions.